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Authors: Elizabeth Houghton

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BOOK: Love for the Matron
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To her astonishment her audience was an appreciative one and there was a murmur of agreement.

Then Jean knocked her new-found confidence flat with her next question. “Do you think it

s a good thing for young people to anticipate marriage
?

Elizabeth didn

t dare look at Stuart for help. “Surely it depends on the circumstances and how carefully the two concerned have looked at the cost—and I don

t mean material costs. For the girl the price comes high. A boy until he reaches the age when he
wants
to get married is playing at love for the fun of the game. It

s a conquest, a proving that he had reached man

s estate. It

s not something he can be entirely blamed for. Nature made him that way long before society stepped in with rules and social codes. For a girl it

s more than the giving of herself, because she has to give love as well: when
that
is handed back and the boy goes on looking for another conquest she is lost and inevitably hurt—and with any hurt there is scarring and hardening. For her it will never be quite the same.”


But how does a boy know whether he

s in love or not
?
” demanded a bearded type sitting next to Susan.

“That

s an easier question to answer. When a boy loves the girl enough not to accept her offering and wants to protect her not only against his own selfish needs but against her own generous giving as well,” Elizabeth said gently. “In these days of nearly full employment when most young people of both sexes are working, marriage is possible very much sooner. Regardless of what the earlier psychologists may have said, waiting never hurt anyone
...
provided you don

t cheat and make the waiting too hard.”

“But supposing they simply can

t afford to get married, can

t get a place to live, and so on? Do you mean they have to go on waiting for ever?” Jean asked scornfully.

“How long is for ever? It seems a long time when you

re young and very much in love; and don

t forget that a lot of young people start off with a very long list of essentials that they think they must have before they set the day. It

s nice to have everything new and up-to-date, but it could be attaching too much importance to the material things of marriage.

Elizabeth began to wish that the conversation would become more general.

But they weren

t going to let her off yet. “What do you think of all these arguments about chastity and so on?” To Elizabeth

s horror it was Susan who put the question.

“I think that saying
don

t
to teenagers is a waste of time. If the boy or girl haven

t already acquired a set of values by the time they enter their teens which will help them decide whether they will wait until marriage or cheat by nibbling away at the prize, it

s far too late to attempt to control things by saying
don

t
,”
Elizabeth said gently, hoping that that would be the end of the subject.

But there had to be one more question before they released her.

“But what about grown-ups? They do what they like
...
look at the Sunday papers and the divorces and so on
...

“It

s the failures that get into the news and the divorce courts, and you seldom read about the happy ones unless it

s someone really outstanding. You

ll probably find that adults are unhappy for the very same reasons that you teenagers are. You want too much from love without putting anything into it
...
you don

t want to have to work for it. Another field looks greener and it

s easier to walk in it than it is to till and plant your own field. So it

s up to each one of us how happy we are.”

It was Robin who came to her rescue. “If you

re asked will you be prepared to testify that teenagers
do
take life seriously when they

re given the chance?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Any time you like.”

Stuart introduced a lighter note. “I always thought teenagers took life
too
seriously!”

There was general laughter and Robin got to his feet.

“I suppose it

s time I went home and faced my music.”

“I think you

ll find that it

s been put away for the day,” Elizabeth told him reassuringly.

He look startled. “I hadn

t realized you

d been putting in some spadework there. Do you talk to the old man the way you do to us
?

Elizabeth shook her head. “I wouldn

t dare,” she answered solemnly.

Stuart hurried their departure. “There

ll be a search party out for us as well,” he warned.

Elizabeth was touched by the warmth of the little group

s good-byes as they crowded round her.

“Tell Robin and Susan to bring you again. My mother would have been shattered if she

d been asked half the questions
...”


You mean she wouldn

t have known how to answer them, Jean,” said another.

“Come on, break it up, chaps.” Robin shepherded his party out of the huddle.

The air felt cold and so fresh when they came out into the square.

“Which way did you come?” Robin asked.

“Archer

s Lane and along the wall,” Susan told him.

“We

d better go back that way.” He glanced at Elizabeth. “Hope you didn

t mind all the informality and the questions. The gang usually freeze up if anyone over twenty-five comes along, but you went down all right. Thanks a lot for playing along with them.”

Elizabeth looked at him curiously. “Which do you mean? The questions don

t get asked, or they

re not answered?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “A bit of both. They usually fire a red hot question at the intruder and if he or she doesn

t toss it back fairly, they

re out.”

“But surely if someone takes the trouble to ask a question, particularly one of that nature, the least you can do is to answer it as fully as you know how ... a matter of common courtesy,” Elizabeth insisted.

Stuart tossed in his pebblesworth. “But most adults dodge that. Either they

re embarrassed or they don

t know or they aren

t interested.”

“How would you have answered those questions tonight?” Elizabeth demanded.

“Not as well or as completely as you, for some of the very reasons you gave. Men have a more casual attitude
...
they

re afraid to wear their hearts on their sleeves, and I don

t suppose they

ve thought very much of the sociological angles, as you very obviously have.”

“You forget ... we deal with the consequences nearly every day in hospital. My introduction to the subject was a child of thirteen being rushed in for an emergency Caesarean ... she died,” Elizabeth said with surprising bitterness.

There was a little murmur of pity from Susan, whom Elizabeth had forgotten was there. “Did the baby die too?”

Elizabeth

s expression softened. “I think it was adopted. It was the little mother I couldn

t forget
...
she couldn

t believe it was happening to her.”

Stuart broke into their conversation. “How about something more cheerful at this late hour?”

Robin laughed. “It

s your guilty conscience getting at you
...
you

re remembering all the girls you

ve loved and left.”

Stuart snorted. “There speaks youth and ignorance. I loved the girls, but
they
left!

“Mind the steps
...
one of them is broken,” Robin warned.

Castleford lay below them, its windows ablaze, and beyond the river surged restlessly. The breeze in the trees picked out a minor refrain.

“Looks as if Daddy

s back,” Susan said gloomily. “My light

s on, so I can slip up unnoticed.”

Robin glanced at Elizabeth and Stuart pleadingly. “Will you come in
?
It will soften the first attack.”

Elizabeth hesitated, but Stuart made up her mind for her. “We

ll report mission successful, but we won

t stay. We

ve already used up our evening on it.”

Robin looked dismayed. “I

m sorry, I didn

t realize I
w
as upsetting anyone but myself.”

Stuart laughed. “It

s the ripples on
pool ...
they reach all shores eventually.”

William Gregory was sitting in front of the library fire when they trooped in, a half-empty tray beside him, and Dear Emily was standing in the doorway protesting lengthily about something. There was a silence that seemed to stretch across the minutes before William finally spoke.

“About time too.” He stopped abruptly as if afraid words might betray the feelings he was trying to control.

“Sorry we took so long about it, but we got hung up in some interesting conversation,” Stuart said smoothly.

William

s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Did you? What was it about
?

“Life and love and morals and such-like,” Stuart replied lightly.

“H

m, I wouldn

t have thought you could have contributed much on that score.”

“But he didn

t, Daddy. Elizabeth answered all the questions and she was ever so good,” Susan burst out.

William

s eyebrows shot right up this time and he regarded Elizabeth with frank astonishment. “I

m amazed, Miss Graham. Seems to me that you

ve been hiding your talents under a dark cloak, Susan, it

s hours past your bedtime. Say good night and off you go.”

Susan went meekly around the group offering a sleepy kiss to each one in turn and went out with Dear Emily scolding happily on her heels.

William looked at his son. “We

d better talk about your digs tomorrow, Robin. It

s too late tonight.”

Robin stared at his father, his eyes wide with surprise. “Dad, do you mean
...?
” he stammered.

His father smiled. “I said we

d discuss it tomorrow,” he said calmly, but his expression was as happy as his son

s.

William turned to his guests, after Robin had departed towards his bed, going two steps up at a time.

“What can I offer you? I

m afraid the tea is gone cold in the pot, so it had better be one for the road.” His voice changed suddenly, “Are you all right, Stuart?”

The other man shivered and held his hands out towards the fire. “Just cold, that

s all. That March wind was nippy.” He looked it. His face had gone pale, but there seemed to be a blueness underlying the pallor.

William poured a stiff brandy and soda. “Drink this, Stuart, and see if it does the trick.”

Stuart

s hand was shaking a little as he took the glass. “Cheers.” He gulped it down with scarce respect for its quality.

Elizabeth watched him closely. She was sceptical of his explanation and she had a feeling that the shiver had been assumed to cover up something else, but Stuart

s color came back swiftly and he seemed himself again.

William offered Elizabeth a drink.
“What would you like, Miss Graham?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Nothing for me, thank you, Doctor Gregory.”

“Don

t you think you two could come down to first names now?” Stuart suggested with a laugh. “After all, William, your son and daughter call her Elizabeth.”

“Cheeky young devils,” William growled. “I suppose we could, off-duty ... Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth smiled at the note of shyness in his voice. “Yes, William.” She didn

t say that she had been on first name terms both in her thoughts and when discussing him with Stuart for some time now.

It was Stuart who made the first move. “I don

t want to hurry you, Elizabeth, but if you want to be escorted to your doorstep, I suggest we make a move.” He hid a yawn. “I think I

ve done enough junketing about for one day.”

“It

s all right, Stuart. I

ll see Elizabeth home. This doctor thinks you should be in bed. You could be starting a touch of

flu,” William suggested.

To Elizabeth

s astonishment Stuart offered no resistance.

“Perhaps you

re right. Good night, Elizabeth, and thanks for everything. Thanks, William, for the drink.”

William went to the door with
him
and when he came back he was looking thoughtful. “He doesn

t look any too fit. It could be just

flu. I wonder who his doctor is ... if he has one. I didn

t like to press my services
.
” He picked up the empty tray. “I

ll ask Dear Emily to make us some more tea.”

He was gone before Elizabeth could protest that she didn

t want any tea, that she wanted to be on her way. Too much had happened these past hours and she needed time to find her way again. She was worried about Stuart and worry had dissolved her earlier anger, but it was her feelings towards William that were disturbing her. To think that a shy voice saying
I suppose we co
u
ld, off-duty
...
Elizabeth
could stir up such a
turmoil
in a space of seconds. When William came back she had her feelings under some sort of control, but for the first few minutes she didn

t feel quite at ease with him. William gave no sign of noticing that there was anything unusual in the air and she began to relax.

William took a well-worn pipe out of his pocket and glanced at it doubtfully. “Do you mind if I
smoke ...
Elizabeth
?
” Again there was the slight shy hesitation before her name.

“Of course not. I think a man smoking a pipe always looks more comfortable than one with a cigarette.”

“I never thought of it that way. Sorry, I forgot to ask you if you

d like a cigarette.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Not for me, thanks. I don

t very often.”

“Sensible woman! Dear Emily shouldn

t be long with that tea.” He hesitated. “I

m not much good with words, but I

d like you to know how much I appreciate your help with Robin and Susan.

He sighed. “I don

t appear to be very handy at the job of being a father.”

“Perhaps you try too hard,” Elizabeth suggested with a smile. “The young are meant to be enjoyed as well as worried over.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps you have something there. I

ll have to try it. Trouble is there

s so little time in a doctor

s life for anything but work.”

“I know.”

A comfortable silence enveloped them, but before they could be really conscious of it Dear Emily came rushing in with a tea-tray and brought with her an aura of hostility that was without disguise.

She put down the tray with a bump. “Where

s Mr. Nichols taken himself off to? I thought he was here with you.” She nodded briskly in Elizabeth

s direction.

“He thought he might be getting

flu, so he

s gone home to bed,” William told her.

Dear Emily sniffed. “Nice to know some people are sensible,” she said pointedly. “Want me to pour?”

William became aware of her ill humor reluctantly. “Yes, please, Dear Emily. You always do.

Dear Emily sniffed again. “I just wondered. So much else seems to be changing.”

William passed the first cup to his guest. “You may want more sugar, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth smiled back at him. “Thank you. William.”

Dear Emily put down the teapot with a clatter. “So it

s like that already, is it? To think that I would ever see the day come when you could forget!” She jumped to her feet. “You can pour your own tea, Doctor Gregory! I

ll have no part in this
...
treachery!”

She turned and ran from the room, slamming the door behind her; but not before Elizabeth had seen the glint of tears in this pale washed-out blue eyes. William picked up the teapot and completed the task of filling his cup before he looked at Elizabeth.

“Sorry about that outburst. Dear Emily gets these moods, sometimes
...
she

s at the difficult age,” he said rather unhappily; and then an unexpected smile appeared on his face. “I don

t know which is worse, the flood tide of adolescence or the ebb tide when a woman thinks her useful days are over.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I never thought of it like that, but I

m sorry if I

ve upset Dear Emily ... she

s been your stand-by all these years.”

“Perhaps she

s been seeing herself as Mary

s stand-in,” he said slowly. “I must admit that it hadn

t occurred to me. Apart from Miriam Brown

and Dear Emily was her slave as much as anybody else—there hasn

t been a woman entertained here since Mary died. I

m not talking about official social occasions
...”

BOOK: Love for the Matron
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